Dark Disscussions
by Alidiabin
Summary: Ziva understands wanting to kill ones father. Her and Ari once discussed it.


Title: Dark Discussions**  
**Fandom: NCIS**  
**Author: Alidiabin**  
**Words: 1,736**  
**Disclaimer: I own nothing**  
**Warnings/ Spoilers: 8x18, oh and a bit of drug/alcohol use.**  
**Pairings: None  
Beta: The awesome Anonymous033  
Summary: Ziva understands wanting to kill one's father.

_Dark Discussions_

Her small apartment felt huge, empty, and ice-cold. She rubbed her fluffy-socked-covered feet together to create some friction and warm herself up. It was of little use. She sat still in her apartment. She took deep breaths as her headspace transitioned from the happy place she had forcefully created and free-fell deep into her painful past.

The latest case had gotten under her skin. A boy was accused of killing his father, and it turned out his mentally unstable mother had done it instead. Tony had joked as they completed the onerous task of cross-jurisdictional paperwork that it sounded a lot like Ziva's family.

Her partner was not quite aware of how right he had been. For Ziva and her half-brother Ari had once planned their father's death.

_XXX_

It was September 2001, and the anniversary of the day Ari's mother Hazmia was killed was approaching. Ziva knew the silent pain her brother would be going through so she arranged to meet him in a safehouse the siblings had long ago acquired for themselves, in the French seaside town of Dieppe. It was to be usual reunion of the siblings, filled with as many deadly sins as they could get their greedy olive-skinned hands on.

The black cover of darkness fell over the sleepy seaside town; the French went to their civilized dinner parties and laughed. Ari and Ziva started off the evening by passing a freshly rolled joint between their hot hands. Ziva coughed. Ari smirked before an eerie chuckle echoed from his lungs.

"Come sit at the window, little sister," Ari said as he sat on the fourth-floor window and swung his legs out. Ziva took a long sip of vodka from the bottle, not caring about the burning sensation the clear liquid was causing. She looked at the window, noticing how high up it was and knowing there was a probability she could fall; she still walked towards it. Her strides were large and not quite in a straight line.

As she neared the window, with her hands tightly around a new vodka bottle, Ari leaned back and grabbed her hand. Ziva followed her big brother's lead. He took the vodka from her and let go of her hand.

"And I thought you were being nice," Ziva said in a sarcastic tone. She settled herself on the ledge. The cold night breeze attacked her face. She took a long deep breath, inhaling the French air.

"Crazy," Ari muttered. Ziva punched his thigh. He let out a fake groan. He then took out a second joint and proceeded to light it.

"It would be more economical if you smoked it in a pipe," Ziva said as Ari took two puffs.

"I'll deal with the economics of it later," Ari replied as he handed the precious white stick to her.

Below a fight broke out; two men spewed out of the mouths of the bar doors and began a fist fight. Ari looked down below as the two men shouted. One appeared to pleading; the other seemed rather angry.

"What's going on?" Ari asked Ziva as she sneakily took a third puff.

"What?" Ziva said; she had no clue what was going on beyond her and the soft drugs.

"The fight below," Ari asked, "Your French is better than mine." Ziva handed Ari the joint and listened to the fight below.

"So?" Ari said as Ziva turned to face him.

"They are father and son and they are arguing over something; the son just announced he wants to kill his father," Ziva said.

"Like Oedipus and Laius," Ari said, showing off his knowledge of Greek Mythology.

"There was no mention of screwing mothers or giving the son away," Ziva replied.

"Fine. Kronus and Uranus," Ari said. Ziva let out a tiny giggle at the name of the father. Ari shook his head in disgust.

Suddenly the cold night air got too much for Ziva to handle; the sea salt tasted bitter in her mouth. She swivelled around on the windowsill and planted her feet firmly on the ground. She then slid down, so her back was leaning against the plain white wall and the cold sea air was blowing in from behind. Despite her childhood spent dancing, Ari sat witnessing the entire sequence of movements surprised at his sister's lack of grace.

Ari joined her a few seconds later; his descent onto the cold wooden floor was much more graceful. He ran his hand across the top of Ziva's chocolate-coloured hair.

"You always smoke it too fast," Ari said. Ziva raised her middle finger. "I love you too." Ziva was surprised by the affectionate outburst; the siblings seldom admitted to the fact that they cared about one another. She responded to him by leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Ari asked after a few seconds of silence.

"What?" Ziva asked, confused by Ari's question.

"Killing Eli," Ari replied. Both the siblings referred to Eli by his name rather than a variation of the title 'father' when out of his company. Though being in Eli's company was as rare in recent years as rain in a hot Israeli summer, and the length of time spent in Eli's company was as short as the youngest David's life in comparison to other long lives.

Ziva froze for a second, as memories of all the emotional torture Eli had put her through over the last twenty-odd years ran through like a film. Ari's question lingered, and she remembered spending an entire ballet performance staring at Eli's empty chair, seeing how much her hurt her mother, and noticing his absence at Tali's sombre funeral. Yes, Ziva had come to resent the man whom she shared twenty-three chromosomes with, and sometimes the resentment crossed the fine line between itself and hate. But she could not recall ever thinking about killing him, even if she might have wished him dead once or twice.

Still, she decided to play her half-brother's game.

"How would you do it?" Ziva whispered. Ari turned to face her with a surprised look on his face.

"I'd kill him in his office, with a single bullet to his temple." Ari said quickly but calmly, indicating that his question had not been an idea conjured up while on mind-altering substances. "I would put the gun next to him and it would look like a suicide."

Ziva found herself feeling physically sick; bile rose up her throat as she pictured Eli with his head on his desk, scarlet blood pouring onto the white paper. Ziva knew Eli would never kill himself, the man was too damn proud and carried the viewpoint that being one's own killer made you selfish and weak. The thought of Eli dead by an apartment suicide made a tear prick her eyelid.

"How about you?" Ari said. Ziva paused. She pondered how she would kill her own father.

"Um," Ziva paused to let the ideas flow; she began reminding herself of all the bad things Eli had done to her to conjure up inspiration. Anger pulsed through her veins. "I'd stab him," she said sheepishly. Ari smirked.

"The knife is your favourite weapon; why did I expect any different?" Ari said. "Would you stab him directly in the heart?" Ziva was surprised by her brother's questioning; she knew he had a fascination with morbid topics and that he loved Nick Cave, for his morbid lyrics.

"No," Ziva said; she paused, surprised at the single word that had come from her lips. "I would slash him and sit to watch the blood seep out of him."

Ari coughed. Ziva came to a sudden realisation; well, it was more a flash of blinding obvious: Ari's idea to kill Eli had been far more humane than Ziva's suggestion. A single bullet would be painless, yet continuous slashing was intended to do the opposite, to prolong Eli's pain. Again, bile rose up her throat; she was ashamed of her violent thoughts, sickened by them. She covered her mouth to stop the bile from escaping.

She rushed up and ran to the bathroom. Ari did not come to her aid as she leaned over the toilet bowl, throwing up; he did not come to rub her back as she gagged. She did not expect such kindness from him.

Eventually she made her way out of the bathroom, and navigated through the shadows across the dark Dieppe apartment.

"Father and son are making up," Ari said from his seat on the windowsill. Ziva came and sat next to him.

"Like Odysseus and Telemachas," Ziva said as she settled on the seat. Ari nodded.

Silence again lingered. The silence was uncomfortable and awkward.

"Ari," Ziva whispered.

"Yes," Ari replied.

"Would you ever actually do it?" Ziva asked as she looked into the distance. Ari suddenly saw how much the entire conversation had gotten to his dear little sister, the only family member he could trust.

"Only if you consented too," Ari said; he would not destroy her by taking Eli away. Even though the man did nothing but harm her, for some strange reason Ziva loved him. Sometimes Ari envied her ability to love a man who had caused so much destruction in the lives of those who chose to love him. He brought her close.

"Promise," Ziva whispered.

"I promise," Ari replied.

XXX

Ziva sat on her couch recalling the memory; she blinked as the memory ended, and she tried to distract herself from her lingering emotions, so she looked around her cosy and spartanly decorated apartment. She looked up at the upright ebony piano that had been given to her two birthdays ago by Tony and the team. On top of the ebony piano was a photo frame, containing the only photograph of all three of Eli David's children. Ziva found herself drawn to the photograph. She got up and gravitated towards it. She rubbed Ari's frozen face.

"You always did keep your promises to me," Ziva whispered. She bit her lip, holding back tears.

Still, as she looked at the three frozen faces of angelic innocence, she could not help but wonder what life would have been like if Ari had staged Eli David's suicide, or if she had made him promise not to kill the woman she had only known as' the American woman'.

_No point thinking about it now_, she told herself.

**A/N**: Dieppe is a real place in France I went their when I was eight. Yes you get more weed if you smoke it out of a pipe rather than a joint, don't ask how I know that.

Greek Myth time: Oedipus and Laius it was prophesised that Laius' son would try and kill him, so Laius tried to stop that. Oedipus had a thing for his mother, and eventually killed his father. Kronos was one of the early Greek gods (pre Olympian) and he killed his father Uranus due to his ill treatment of his wife and children. Telemachas is the son of Odysseus the primary character in Homer's 'The Odyssey', Odysseus left for the Trojan war not long after his son was born, they eventually found each other when Telemachas was a teenager and there was no bad blood. I know there is some debate about these myths so if I'm epiclly wrong please feel free to correct me.

Anyway, reviews? Please?


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